Dancing With Death
by Holz090
Summary: Galex pairing. When Alex's jealousy leads to a woman's death, her relationship with Gene lays in tatters. Reviews would be warmly welcome :D
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Alex sighed as she stared at the man now only partly visible through the half closed blinds of his office door. When did Gene ever close those blinds? She could count on one hand the number of times she had been left out in the cold, forbidden access to the lion's lair. Others, sure, but no matter what the situation, she'd always been there by his side. She'd hurt him, badly.

Looking around the rest of CID, the atmosphere was as thick as she'd ever known it. Even after Chris had betrayed them, the mood had been better than this. No one seemed to so much as want to look at her, and any essential conversation was kept to a bare minimum, with a clear, bitter undercurrent. It wasn't that they hated her, no one ever wanted to get involved, but as far as they were concerned, she'd upset their idol, their surrogate father, their God, and anyone who did that was met with bitterness. They were just being loyal, a quality she'd always admired in the team - she'd be selfish and hypocritical to expect anything else of them now.

Chris put the phone down and looked around the room before standing up and approaching Alex, as though he wasn't sure that he should. When nobody responded, he walked over anyway. "Ma'am. Um... Lucille drew £30 from her bank account 3 days ago from a cash machine in Southend". The entire time Chris spoke to her, he never once looked her in the eyes – never at her face even. "I just got off the phone to the bank who confirmed it" he added, as though he was being tested.

"Right, thanks, Chris". Alex smiled a desperate attempt to raise the moral to a level she could function on. "Just the kind of lead we've been hoping for".

"Not that it bloody matters now" Ray said, through almost gritted teeth.

"Why would it not matter?"

"She's dead. They all end up dead.".

Alex opened her mouth to protest, but promptly thought better of it, given the circumstances. She couldn't afford to cause yet another argument and anyway, as much as hated to admit it even to herself, he was probably right.

Lucille was a member of a dance group who, for whatever reason, appeared to be targeted by a yet to be traced man. Now, 6 of the 8 girls were dead in the space of 3 weeks, all killed in exactly the same way. Alex cringed at the thought of the bodies: the photos alone had given her nightmares, and she often prided herself on being unshockable. This man was the only lead they had, and yet they knew next to nothing about him. They were working on the assumption that this was the same man who had been banned from the club after he became 'obsessed' with the first girl to be killed, Jodie, but no explanation could be found as to why he'd then gone after the other girls. Perhaps a jealous rage, a vendetta against whoever had reported him to the club managers? Even Alex was drawing blanks, and that worried her.

Whatever the motive, wherever Lucillewas, she was almost certain to have suffered the same fate as her friends: butchered – the only way it could be explained.

As Alex headed towards the door, a sudden silence fell over the room. She spun round to see Gene emerging from his office, white as a sheet with a look of pure disgust on his face.

"As many of you are already aware," Gene eventually began, his voice still shaking slightly, "the body of Regina Cunningham was found this morning." He paused again as looked over at Alex. A look that told her that it wasn't illegal, and if he wasn't a cop, he'd kill her on the spot. "Same method so, we're again to assume, same killer."

Regina being the eighth, and final, of the girls. The youngest, prettiest and the girl that Gene himself seemed to have a thing for. To the extent that it was Alex's blind jealousy has almost certainly lead to her death. It was times like this when Alex hoped with every fibre of her being that this world was all in her head, a bad dream.


	2. Chapter 1

A phone rings, over and over again. No one moves to answer it.

30 minutes later someone bangs hard on the front door, calling someone's name. A brick comes through the glass pane on the door, and a hand reaches inside. The latch is released, and the door swings open. Heavy feet run up the stairs, more shouting. A door bursts open, a scream is heard, a scream of horror. More heavy feet, back down the stairs. A phone number is dialled: "Police. My girlfriend's been murdered".

_ _ _

"...so I said yeah, but you're the one walking like Charlie Chaplin for the next week""

The department erupted into laughter as Ray Carling retold a story of his somewhat eventful night the previous day. Their last case was wrapped up, the killer was safely in custody and the evidence against him was rock solid. The mood was happy, relaxed. Perhaps this was why Gene took the moment to stand up, straighten his tie, clear his throat and approach Alex.

"You up for dinner, Bols?" he asked, in a tone which he hoped sounded casual but knew it probably didn't.

Alex turned and looked up at the guv from where she was sat at her desk. She smiled, knowing what he was getting at. She moved her pile of papers an inch to the left, straightened her legs out and did her best to look casual. "With you?"

"Why, you got another offer?" He sniffed and looked across the room at nothing in particular, also attempting to look casual.

"Well, no." Alex smiled slightly, and after a few seconds in which she pretended to consider his offer, looked back at her desk, shrugged at said "hell, why not?".

Gene tried to hide his grin, resisting the urge only just to punch the air and shout 'get in!'. "Right. Shall we say 8, Luigi's?"

"Sure. Although I might be a bit late, got a few errands to run first.". Except there were no errands, other than to the makeup and perfume counters. Still, it never paid to appear too keen.

With the deal sealed, Gene turned – purposefully, on his foot, somewhat resembling a ballerina's pivot, and walked back into his office to answer his ringing phone. Alex walked over to take a plastic cup of champagne – glasses were deemed too expensive on a police budget, whilst no expense was spared it seemed on expensive champagne. Bollinger, just like her.

Before Alex could bring the cup to her bright pink lips however, Gene walked back in and snatched it from her. "Plenty of time for drinking later Bols, first we've got a call. And that goes for everyone."

Loud groans of protest echoed around the room as the team reluctantly took a final sip from their cups before throwing them in the bin. "Can't it wait until tomorrow, guv?!" Ray protested. "I've already had 2, I can't drive."

"Not a problem, seeing how you never have and never will get your hands on the keys to the Quattro. Now move."

"What's the call?" Alex asked, the first to move towards the door.

"Dead stripper".

"Not all bad then, 'ey?!" Ray grinned, rubbing his hangs together and following them out towards the car park.


	3. Chapter 2

For a moment nobody said a word -not even Ray could come up with any witty, sexist jokes at a time like this. A young PC was throwing up in the street, whilst another sat shaking, sobbing by the front door.

"Poor guy," Alex said, turning from the sobbing PC to Gene, "first day on the job and he gets this."

"Yeah, well, that's the name of the game, Bols." Gene replied, sounding unsympathetic, but Alex could detect the hint of emotion, buried in there somewhere beneath all the macho pride and ego.

And who couldn't feel emotion at something like this? What cop with any kind of heart wouldn't be moved to tears, disgusted and angry, desperate to track down the killer and rip him to tiny pieces, then display his dismembered body parts for the world to take their frustrations on?

A young woman, couldn't have been older than 22, butchered. There really was no other way describe the mess formally known as Jennifer Carr, found by her poor boyfriend earlier that day, on the blood-soaked bed they'd woken up in together in happier times.

"Has anyone spoken to him?" Alex asked, her eyes directing towards Jennifer's boyfriend, but never looking at him, as though it was too heartbreaking.

"No, we thought we'd leave that to you and you're psychiatry". Gene responded quickly, gesturing her over to him.

"It's psych- oh forget it." Alex sighed, slowly turning to walk away. Arguing was pointless now, there was a job to be done.

_ _ _

"Dan? I'm DI Alex Drake."

The man stuffed a photograph back into his pocket, sniffed and turned to face Alex. "Oh, hey."

"That Jennifer?" Alex asked softly, gesturing towards his pocket with her head.

"Yeah... Just trying to get that..." He screwed his face up in disgust at the thought of the body inside the house. The grief and shock were all over his face as he wiped a tear from his face before looking up, directly at Alex. "I just can't believe... why would anyone do that? I can't-"

"I know..." Alex laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Dan jolted and stepped back quickly. "They'll be bringing her out soon," she continued, trying to sound as sensitive as possible. "You don't have to be here... you know, if it's too painful."

"I've already seen it all" Dan responded, "And anyway, I want to be here when she comes out... A familiar face you know?" Dan half-laughed at himself, before looking down at the floor. "I know it's stupid. She's dead, it's not like she can see anything now is it?!"

"I understand. Dan I'm really sorry to have to do this but they're gonna want to talk to you about Jen".

"Yeah, I know... it's fine."

The area suddenly fell silent as Jennifer's front door opened, and 4 men wheeled out a trolley. This was the worst part of the job for Alex, the parading of the bodies. No matter how dignified they tried to make it, we were still dragging our dead to be put on cold slabs. No one wanted to end there.

Seeing the body in the cold light of day seemed to become too much for Dan. With tears in his eyes, he sniffed and walked hurriedly towards the Quattro. "This is your car isn't it?" he asked, his thick Belfast accent becoming far more noticeable. Alex nodded. "Lets get these questions over with then." He said, jumping into the back before anyone could stop him.

Alex watched him sympathetically, understanding fully why he was in such a hurry. At least she hadn't had her parent's bodies – or what was left of them, thrust in front of her, in either world. She wondered how Molly would deal with seeing such a sight, her mother cold on a slab. No child should ever have to go through that. "I am not going to die" Alex murmured aloud.


	4. Chapter 3

Dan's hands shook violently as he tried to take a sip of his tea, slopping more onto the floor than went in his mouth. His hands gripped the polystyrene cup as though it were the only thing keeping him alive.

"I'd been trying to call her..." Dan choked, holding Gene's gaze, his eyes filled with tears. "I hadn't heard from her for a few days and I was worried. I left countless messages but she never got back to me. I knew something must be up because she...she always returns her calls. So on third day I went round there." Dan seemed to withdraw further into the corner of Gene's office, shifting his gaze now to bottom of his cup. "I should've gone round there sooner, I-"

Alex stood up from her position sat on Gene's desk, and moved closer to Dan, making sure not to touch him after his reaction previously. "You weren't to have known."

"But I should've!" Dan's voice grew louder and more angry now, his voice sounding shaky but somehow firm. "Some, some scumbag's doing God knows what to her and where am I? Sat at home thinking she's cheating on me, that's fucking what!" This violent outburst proved too much for the flimsy cup, as Dan's clenched fist squished it, sending the remaining tea pouring onto the floor. Dan threw the empty cup onto the floor, raised his hands to his head and screamed in frustrated rage.

"Let's take a break." Alex interjected, reaching for a cloth for the spilled tea.

"I'm sorry..." Dan whimpered, tears now streaming down his face.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for. We'll just be outside, we'll let you catch your breath." Alex reassured him, grabbing Gene's arm as they walked out.

"Do you think he's right?" Gene asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

"About what?" Alex asked, fiddling with her top.

"Was she cheating?"

Alex looked up at him suddenly. "What? Guv there's no evidence to suggest-"

"Oh come on, she's a stripper. Basically a hooker. Hardly loyal, one-lover-for-the-best-of-their-life kinds of people are they?"

Alex laughed in mock disbelief. "Clearly everything I've told you over the last year has meant nothing, Gene!" she responded, a tone of anger to her voice. "One, there is a world of a difference between been a lap dancer and a sex worker, and two, even if she was, that doesn't mean she was cheating on him. It's just so typical of you to make an observation like that on the strength of what, your outdated, ignorant stereotype? The girl's been murdered for God's sake and all you can think of is-"

Gene cut in quickly, keen to avoid another feminist rant. "Woah, don't get your knickers in a twist, Bols. All I mean was if she WAS cheating on him, then that gives him the perfect motive to..."

"What you think Dan killed her, now?"

Gene stepped backwards and laughed. "Come on, you're meant to the one doing that psychobabble talk, can you not see it? He's hiding something, it's obvious."

Before Alex could think up a witty response to Gene's outrageous suggestion, Shaz approached them with a file.

"Ma'am... It says here Jennifer worked in a club called Last Resort. She was a member of some kind of group, doing shows for the punters. Anyway I spoke to the owner and he said she hadn't turned up for the last few shows, and he was considering sacking her..."

"Right," Gene replied, snatching the file from her hand. "I want names and addresses of these dancers. Bols, we're going to see this boss.

"What about-"

"Chris, Ray, you talk to Dan. And tread carefully, he's all over the place."

"I really don't think-" Alex tried to argue but was pulled away before she could finish her sentence.

"Do you wanna catch this bastard or not?" Gene asked, clearly not expecting an answer.

"I thought you had Dan already hung, drawn and quartered?" Alex quipped sarcastically.

"Little thing called evidence, Bols." Gene replied, pushing the door open with his hip. "Pain the bum but unfortunately very favourable in this day and age. Now let's go get some."

* * *

Meanwhile back in CID, Chris and Ray had moved Dan into the interview room, and were hovering in the doorway, neither sure what to say next. Dan had stopped crying by this point, and was now gently rocking backward and forward, his eyes fixed to the wall opposite. "He looks like that guy in that film, what's it called... One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," Chris said.

"What, that Indian one who throws the sink out the window? Cor, they must've had some gym gear in them places for 'im to do that! 'Ere, I had this cousin right, and he-"

"Where did those other two go?" Dan's sudden interjection stopped Ray in his tracks. Seeming to remember where they were, Ray cleared his throat and walked further into the room. Chris followed him. "They had to go out" Ray told him.

"Right..." Dan gazed briefly around the deafly silent room, before his retreated back to the floor, his body remaining hunched up and frail-looking. Chris and Ray gave eachother blank looks, both hoping the other had some kind of idea of what to say next.

***

Approaching the club: a large, bright building with neon signs and what appeared to be Christmas lights – in June, wrapped around a nearby post, Gene grunted and lit a cigarette. "Fitting name, really" he quipped. "It'd have to be really, wouldn't it?"

Alex failed to laugh at his joke, and instead simply quickened her pace. "Do you have to?" She asked gesturing to his cigarette, a disgusted look on her face. Gene sighed and stamped it out on the ground. He'd learnt a while back to avoid arguments with women – especially ones like Drake. They always win in the end. Instead he pushed open the surprisingly heavy doors to the club.

"We still on for dinner tonight then?" He asked, trying to sound casual, but suspecting that he didn't succeed. Alex grinned.

"I guess so". She responded, deliberately ensuring she entered the building in front of Gene.


	5. Chapter 4

"Can I help you?"

A thin, sour-faced receptionist looked up reluctantly from filing her nails. Alex hated her instantly.

"Yes." She replied, in the most professional, superior tone of voice she could muster. "I'm detective inspector Alex Drake, and this is DCI Gene Hunt. We need to talk to the owner if it's not too much trouble."

Seemingly oblivious to the fact that she had just been insulted, or that two serious looking police officers were stood over her brandishing ID cards, the receptionist sighed and dialled a number on a large white phone in front of her. "Jack. Some coppers want to talk to you... Right." She said into the phone, before telling them that they can go through to the office. "Straight down the hall, turn left, top of the stairs." She said, in an almost robotic tone.

"Thank you so much!" Alex grinned sarcastically, charging on ahead.

"You could have least tried to be professional there Bols." Gene said as they walked away.

"Like she was you mean?"

Once inside the office, the pair exchanged knowing glances. This was not what they had expected: In the centre of the room was a long, glittery pole, currently decorated with several girls, even thinner than the receptionist, only with far larger implants, wrapped around it. As the girls spun and twirled, a tall, suited man sat on a plump red sofa, topping up a glass of scotch and smoking. When he saw them, he merely moved over on the sofa and gestured to them to join him.

"Ah, Mr Hunt. Do sit down. Sorry about Nat back there, time of the month, y'know?" he grinned, tapping the seat next to him. "Then again I guess you must be used to it with this one" he gestured a fat, orange finger towards Alex, baring a full mouth of yellow, wonky teeth. Alex stepped back, physically repulsed.

"Yes... well." Gene looked uncomfortable, and shook his head to say he'd rather stand. "We need to speak to you about Jennifer Carr. Her body was found at her home this morning, we understand she worked for you?"

Jack took another swig of his drink. "Ah yes, terrible business. Cracking pair of tits on her that one, be difficult to replace her." He laughed a deep, sickening laugh, which Alex noted Gene didn't respond to. Instead he stood his ground, merely clearing his throat.

"We were told you were about to sack her?" Alex cut in. "Now why would you want to sack that _cracking pair of tits_?"

"Unreliable, I'm afraid darling. She was constantly turning up at all hours, usually drunk. In fact, if it weren't for the tits, she'd have been out the door months ago. Still, she drew in the tips that's for sure. Caused a few ructions in the group, you know what it's like. One gets more attention that the other and it's handbags at dawn!" There was that laugh again.

"What kind of ructions?" Gene asked.

"Oh, nothing serious. I highly doubt any of my girls murdered her Mr Hunt. Too scared of breaking a nail! But no, just the usual scraps, the odd broken heel, hair extension pulled out, you know the stuff."

"Would it be possible to talk to these girls? Just for a minute."

"Hold on a sec" Jack cut in. "Lovely ladies, thanks a lot. I'll let you know by the end of the day." He waved the two girls from the pole out of the door, before turning back to Gene. "Sorry about that, I'm interviewing."

Alex failed to stifle her laughter. He was probably already 'interviewing' for Jennifer's job. What sort of sad, desperate woman would want to work for this scumbag?

"Now, you wanted to speak to the girls, yeah? Sure, no problem. Nat will give you their addresses."

Gene nodded thankyou and walked towards the door. As Alex followed him, Jack grabbed her arm. "If you ever get sick of cleaning the filth off the streets, give me a bell." He grinned. Alex pulled her arm away without replying, and quickly hurried after Gene.

"Urgh, I think I need a shower!" She exclaimed as soon as they were out of earshot.

"I think I might have to join you" Gene said without thinking. An awkward pause followed, as they exchanged looks and smiled. "Uh... of course I don't mean, literally..."

"Yeah, yeah, course" Alex flustered, trying to laugh it off as the approached the reception desk. She could only hope her face wasn't screaming as loudly as her head, 'I wish'.

____

A moment later, as they walked away from the neon lit building, Alex leant slightly closer to Gene. "You know, there was a time when you'd have been agreeing with him". She smiled.

"With him? No chance, Bols. You must have me confused with someone else. "

"No seriously. It's funny, Tyler would always say that-"

"Tyler?" Gene interjected. "What is it with you and him?"

"Believe me, it's nothing like what you're thinking!" Alex grinned. "But seriously. What happened to the sexist pig we all know and love?"

Gene shrugged, a look perhaps of discomfort on his face, as though he had something to say but couldn't find the words. "Maybe he grew up. It's not 1973 anymore, Drakey. Right, lets get back to the station and make some calls".

____

The girls, none of them looking older than 22, entered the room in a line, as though performing on a club night. As one of them grabbed a chair, Gene almost expected her to straddle it. Thankfully she simply pulled it closer to the table and unceremoniously sat down. Two others did the same, with the other two standing beside them. Despite their sullen expressions, Gene still struggled not to imagine the imagine in front of him on the front cover of a calendar. Alex, noticing her DCI practically dribbling over the table, cleared her throat and thanked the girls for their time.

"None of you are suspects," she told them. "We simply need to ask you a few questions. I understand this must be a difficult time for you but I'm afraid I do have to ask. When was the last time you saw Jennifer? "

The girl stood on the left looked around for a tissue. Alex passed her the box and she gratefully took one. "Sorry, streaming cold!" She said pretending to blow her nose, but Alex could tell she was crying. "Um... Friday night – well, morning. We all went for breakfast after work, uh... I left her about 7, she said was going to bed."

"Who's bed though?" Another girl interjected. "She wanted to get back with him you know. I'd put money on her turning up there".

Gene, snapping out of his trance, sat forward in his seat. "Back with Dan?"

"Yeah".

"So Jennifer and Dan weren't together when she died? He's just told us they were engaged." Alex said.

"Bastard!" The girl banged her fist on the table. "Fucking bastard murdered her, I know it! I'll kill him... I'll fucking string him up by his shoelaces and hang the bastard!"

"Woah!" Alex held up her hands. "Sorry... what was your name?"

"Aimee. Aimee Chiles".

"Thankyou Aimee. Sorry but... what makes you so sure it was him?"

"Well who else could it be? And he attacked that punter a few months ago so it's not like he's not known for it." She answered, tears of anger welling up in her eyes. The other girls nodded in agreement.

"What punter?"

"Some sleaze who tied to book Jen for a private party. She told him she didn't do that stuff, but he kept upping his offer. He was on £5000 before Dan barged over there. He lamped him one, practically knocked him out. Jack I think his name was. The punter I mean".

"He was harmless really," the smaller, thinner of the girls added. "Bit of a perv, drunk, but harmless. But Dan just went mad. I've never seen him like that before, it was like he possessed. Anyone would have thought Jack had-" The girl stopped suddenly. She had been about to say you'd think he'd killed her, before the irony hit her. Her friend came to her rescue.

"He just launched at him, threw him across the room. I thought he was gonna kill him, I really did."

"What makes you think he turned that violence towards Jennifer?" Gene asked, trying to ignore the fact that said small thin girl was just about his perfect woman.

"Because of what happened next...." Aimee started. She sighed before slowly continuing, screwing her face up as she spoke, as though every word physically hurt to speak. "After the show, he'd been thrown out but he was waiting for her outside. She tried to talk to him but he was having none of it, said he couldn't stand by and watch her 'prostitute herself'". She said, making speech marks in the air. "He said she had to chose between the job or him. She tried to talk him out of it, but he took it as her choosing the job. He called her a filthy slut, said he must have been desperate to go near her in the first place, spat in her face and walked off."

"She was gutted" the thin girl continued. "She loved him so much, the prick".

Gene and Alex looked at eachother, unable to believe that this was the same man who was sat sobbing in their interview room back at the station. Alex thanked the girls and the two headed outside to the Quattro.

"Well, who'd have thought it, hey?" Gene grinned. "It's always the quiet ones. Looks like I'm right after all!"


End file.
